At 4 years old I was a Northerner in a Southern corner of England, a small offshoot of a big family, we didn’t know anyone where we landed. I found comfort in nature, we weren’t always happy at home, but I always had those plants and trees to be with, I had connection and inspiration there. 

I watched adults, trying to learn how to be welcomed, be accepted, be loved. That’s how conditioning crept in. I watched how people identified in comparison to one another, how they aligned with certain identities, and liked some people more than others. I saw that the person you were dictated the response you got, as we all diligently learned and joined in this game of Hierarchy. 

I tried out different ways of dressing, of acting, and reflected on the response I got from those around me... just as we all do, consciously or not. I fine-tuned my self-expression to get me as much connection as I could with my family, and as much safety and validation as I could from other people. I was a highly functioning human, and I’m sure my intuition was screaming.  

I loved being with people; connection, community, celebration, and I love people even more now, I love all of us. But I wasn’t being me, it seemed no one was being themselves. It felt lonely. 

 
I understand that conditioning as a series of boxes. Boxes introduced by large powers, to make us easier to influence and bend at will. Ones that are hard to see and perfectly designed so that there are both safe sides and dangerous ones. They make me sad and angry and hopeful all at once. At least we have something to break out of, in the meantime we create our own labels for those boxes, to find ourselves and each other. 

Age, Race, Ethnic Origin, Gender, Sexuality, Neurotype, Class, Disability... 
 

None of these things are who I am, none of these things speak to my heart. None of these boxes are fit to describe the beauty and nuance I see in all of us. The plants don’t care about these things. 

They have all been made up for one purpose... division. Division to inform hierarchy; some move me up the ladder, some move me down. Within them I have enormous privilege, as well as daily struggles. Box after box after box, created to restrict human expression and spiritual evolution. Created for Conflict not for Peace. 

We are so much more magical than any box could hope to hold. 

They are not the truth of our love, our potential, our wisdom as conscious beings on an incredible planet, in a wild and ever-changing universe. I can see and feel what else is possible, the mind-blowing beauty and freedom that rests inside our intuition…  

The quiet, waiting, ever fizzing power of potential in our blood and bones and spirit. The magic that lives in all of us, that is ancient and newborn, mischievous and full of integrity at once. When I work with plants, with the elements and the ancestors, I feel totally at home, alive, connected to life here as a human, as I should be.  
 

We all have the same core truths, love, connection, curiosity, creativity… it’s finding our ways to them that can be the challenge. My journey so far wasn’t a simple or a gentle one, but, with each step towards my own compass, towards love or grief, through the conditioning, through the fires, I got clearer, I got better at navigating with ease and curiosity. That’s the ride I’m still on, and I’m sticking to it.  
 

That’s the ride I’m here to help others on, the reason I make plant medicines and walk this bridge between the worlds… 
 

Our deep truths might not be pretty or presentable, but they are ours, and the plants are calling. 

In case these are helpful to you, this is where I land... 

Skin colour: White. 

Family origin: Britain and Ireland.

Romantic orientation: Queer Pansexual. 

Gender: Female. 

Neurotype: Autistic, ADHD. 

Disability: Osteoarthritis, chronic pain and hypermobility. 

I am also an apprentice herbalist, dreamer, artist, deep listener, 

bridge walker and collector of magical sticks.